he wasn’t anywhere any more. Even his castle was vanishing.
‘I expect I shal get the hang of this incarnation business as I go along,’ said the oh
god
‘Most people—‘ Susan began. A shudder ran through her body. ‘Oh, no. What’s he
doing? WHAT’S HE DOING?
A JOB WELL DONE, I FANCY
The sleigh thundered across the night. Frozen fields passed underneath
‘Hmph,’ said Albert. He sniffed
WHAT DO YOU CALL THAT WARM FEELING YOU GET INSIDE
‘Heartburn!’ Albert snapped
DO I DETECT A NOTE OF UNSEASONA
GRUMPINESS? said Death. NO SUGAR PIGGYWIGGY FOR YOU, ALBERT
‘I don’t want any present, master.’ Albert sighed. ‘Except maybe to wake up and find
it’s al back to normal. Look, you know it always goes, wrong when you start changing
things. . .
BUT THE HOGFATHER CAN CHANGE THINGS. LITTLE MIRACLES ALL OVER
THE PLACE, WITH MANY A MERRY HO, HO, HO. TEACHING PEOPLE THE REAL
MEANING OF HOGSWATCH, ALBERT
‘What, you mean that the pigs and cattle have al been slaughtered and with any luck
everyone’s got enough food for the winter?
WELL, WHEN I SAY THE REAL MEANIN
‘Some wretched devil’s had his head chopped off in a wood somewhere ‘cos he
found a bean in his dinner and now the summer’s going to come back?
NOT EXACTLY THAT, BUT
‘Oh, you mean that they’ve chased down some poor beast and shot arrows up into
their apple trees and now the shadows are going to go away?
THAT IS DEFINITELY A MEANING, BUT
‘Ah, then you’re talking about the one where they light a bloody big bonfire to give the
sun a hint and tel it to stop lurking under the horizon and do a proper day’s work?
Death paused, while the hogs hurtled over a range of hil s
YOU’RE NOT HELPING, ALBERT
‘Wel , they’re al the real meanings that I know.
I THINK YOU COULD WORK WITH ME ON THIS
‘It’s al about the sun, master. White snow and red blood and the sun. Always has
been.
VERY WELL, THEN. THE HOGFATHER CAN TEACH PEOPLE THE UNREAL
MEANING OF HOGSWATCH
Albert spat over the side of the sleigh. ‘Hah! “Wouldn’t It Be Nice If Everyone Was
Nice”, eh
THERE ARE WORSE BATTLE CRIES
‘Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear .
EXCUSE ME ..
Death reached into his robe and pul ed out an hourglass
TURN THE SLEIGH AROUND, ALBERT. DUTY CALLS
‘Which one?
A MORE POSITIVE ATTITUDE WOULD ASSIST AT THIS POINT, THANK YOU SO
VERY MUCH
‘Fascinatin’. Anyone got another pencil?’ said Ridcul y
‘It’s had four already,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. ‘Right down to the stub,
Archchancel or. And you know we buy our own these days.
It was a sore point. Like most people with no grasp whatsoever of real economics,
Mustrum Ridcul y equated ‘proper financial control’ with the counting of paperclips.
Even senior wizards had to produce a pencil stub to him before they were al owed a
new one out of the locked cupboard below his desk. Since of course hardly anyone
retained a half-used pencil, the wizard
had been reduced to sneaking out and buying new ones with their own money
The reason for the dearth of short pencils was perched in front of them, whirring
away as it chewed an HB down to the eraser on the end, which it spat at the Bursar
Ponder Stibbons had been making notes
‘I think it works like this,’ he said. ‘What we’re getting is the personification of forces,
just like Hex said. But it only works if the thing is … wel , logical.’ He swal owed. Ponder
was a great believer in logic, in the face of al the local evidence, and he hated having
to use the word in this way. ‘I don’t mean it’s logical that there’s a creature that eats
socks, but it … a … it makes a sort of sense . . . I mean it’s a working hypothesis.
‘Bit like the Hogfather,’ said Ridcul y. ‘When you’re a kiddie, he’s as good an
explanation as any, right?
‘What’s not logical about there being a goblin that brings me huge bags of money?’
said the Dean sulkily. Ridcul y fed the Stealer of Pencils another pencil
‘Welt sir … firstly, you’ve never mysteriously received huge bags of money and
needed to find a hypothesis to explain them, and secondly, no one else would think it
at al likely.
‘Huh!
‘Why’s it happening now?’ said Ridcul y. ‘Look its hopped onto my finger! Anyone got
another pencil?
‘Wel , these … forces have always been here,’ said Ponder. ‘I mean, socks and
pencils have always inexplicably gone missing, haven’t they? But why they’re suddenly
getting personified like this … I’m afraid I don’t know.
‘Wel , we’d better find out, hadn’t we?’ said Ridcul y. ‘Can’t have this sort of thing
going on. Daft anti-gods and miscel aneous whatnots being created just because
people’ve thought about ’em? We could have anything turn up, anyway. Supposing
some idiot says there must be a god of indigestion, eh?
Glingleglingleglingle
‘Er . . . I think someone just did, sir,’ said Ponder
‘What’s the matter? What’s the matter?’ said the oh god. He took Susan by the
shoulders
They felt bony under his hands
‘DAMN,’ said Susan. She pushed him away and steadied herself on the table, taking
care that he didn’t see her face
Final y, with a measure of the self-control she’d taught herself over the last few
years, she managed to get her own voice back
‘He’s slipping out of character,’ she muttered, to the hal in general. ‘I can feel him
doing it. And that drags me in. What’s he doing it al for?
‘Search me,’ said the oh god, who’d backed away hurriedly. ‘Er … just then … before
you turned your face away … it looked as though you were wearing very dark eye
shadow … only you weren’t . . .
‘Look, it’s very simple,’ said Susan, spinning round. She could feel her hair restyling
itself, which it always did when it was anxious. ‘You know how stuff runs in families?
Blue eyes, buck teeth, that sort of thing? Wel , Death runs in my family.
‘Er … in everybody’s family, doesn’t it?’ said the oh god
‘Just shut up, please, don’t gabble,’ said Susan. ,I didn’t mean death, I meant Death
with a capital D. I remember things that haven’t happened yet and I Can TALK THAT
TALK and stalk that stalk and … if he gets sidetracked, then I’l have to do it. And he
does get sidetracked. I don’t know what’s real y happened to the real Hogfather or why
Grandfather’s doing his job, but I know a bit about how he thinks and he’s got no … no
mental shields like we have. He doesn’t know how to forget things or ignore things. He
takes everything literal y and logical y and doesn’t understand why that doesn’t always
work—-
She saw his bemused expression
‘Look … how would you make sure everyone in the world was wel fed?’ she
demanded
‘Me? Oh, wel , I…’ The oh god spluttered for a moment. ‘I suppose you’d have to
think about the prevalent political systems, and the proper division and cultivation of
arable land, and—
‘Yes, yes. But he’d just give everyone a good meat’ said Susan
‘Oh, I see. Very impractical. Hah, it’s as sil y as saying you could clothe the naked by,
wel , giving them some clothes.
‘Yes! I mean, no. Of course not! I mean, obviously you’d give- oh, you know what I
mean!
‘Yes, I suppose so.
‘But he wouldn’t.
There was a crash beside them
A burning wheel always rol s out of flaming wreckage. Two men carrying a large
sheet of glass always cross the road in front of any comedy actor involved in a crazy
car chase. Some narrative conventions are so strong that equivalents happen even on
planets where the rocks boil at noon. And when a ful y laden table col apses, one
miraculously unbroken plate always rol s across the floor and spins to a halt
Susan and the oh god watched it, and then turned their attention to the huge figure
now lying in what remained of an enormous centrepiece made of fruit
‘He just … came right out of the air,’ whispered the oh god
‘Real y? Don’t just stand there. Give me a hand to help him up, wil you?’ said Susan,
pul ing at a large melon
‘Er, that’s a bunch of grapes behind his ear—
‘Wel ?
‘I don’t like even to think about grapes—
‘Oh, come on.
Together they managed to get the newcomer on to his feet
‘Toga, sandals … he looks a bit like you,’ said Susan, as the fruit victim swayed
heavily
‘Was I that green colour?
‘Close.
‘Is … is there a privy nearby?’ mumbled their burden, through clammy lips